


The Fundamentals of Fracturing Oaths

by Luci-Cunt_OG (Luci_Cunt)



Category: Original Work
Genre: :), idiots being in love?, idk - Freeform, lol do you like faerie bullshit?, some drama but mostly soft idiots loving one another and very overdramatic descriptions of nature?, very large straw hats?, you'll probably like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luci_Cunt/pseuds/Luci-Cunt_OG
Summary: When wandering the woods alone: always be wary of the fae, never make deals with them, and under absolutely no circumstances should yousave one.That's the rules that have kept Arical alive for all of his life until this point, when he breaks all of them, in the same hour, and gains a bodyguard that refuses to leave him alone.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 5





	The Fundamentals of Fracturing Oaths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TwinMoonSun842](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwinMoonSun842/gifts).



> Heyyyyyyyyyy, yes rather than do something productive I wrote this so :D 
> 
> (Also this is a gift to the greatest friend in the entire world--ily moony!!! thank you for putting up with me thru this XDD <33)
> 
> Some warnings: there's a brief description of some violence, but nothing I thought warranted a higher rating. Also this is v slowburn, sorry, they're morons. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! <3

Arical made his way through the deep woods quietly. The forest around him seemed hushed, but not unnaturally so, there were thick, healthy trees all the way around him, they helped shield him from the heavy rain pouring down. He didn’t mind the rain so much though, it made the forest more peaceful, with all the birds and creatures seeking shelter from the downpour and allowing him to pass through uninterrupted. 

His pants did soak through soon enough, however, from walking through the thick underbrush. He would have been more upset about it, but his massive straw hat kept his head and shoulders dry, which was helping his mood. 

Had he been anyone else he might have begun humming just to stave off the quiet of the rainy forest, but Arical couldn’t bring himself to disturb the peace with his voice--it felt almost wounding. Besides, he may have felt comfortable and unafraid, but he was no fool. He’d learned just like every other child in every other village and city and town the dangers of attracting attention alone in the woods. 

Those with angelic voices might be stolen to fae strongholds and forced to sing until their throats tore themselves to shreds. Others with bothersome voices but pretty faces might be slain, so their heads could be preserved and hung in a faerie home. 

Arical wasn’t sure he’d consider his voice angelic--or that his face was anywhere near worthy of hanging, but even simply calling the attention of stray fae could end with you torn to pieces by the brutish beasts they traveled with in their hunting parties, or perhaps poked and prodded at while the fae feast and cackle at your pain. 

The stories were extensive, almost as extensive as the human’s fear of the fae creatures. It was also why Arical knew he could travel through these woods without worry of being robbed by stray bandits or excitable and bored children. No one dared trek through the woods alone for fear of the fae--though Arical knew a secret. These fae hunting grounds had long since been abandoned, you could tell just by listening to the birds twittering about during the day instead of the night. 

Or--it was supposed to be. 

As Arical walked, the rain dripping down from the trees and sliding down the brim of his large hat--he heard a low noise that made him freeze. 

It was a quiet, rumbling growl like thunder at the same time as a lightning flash. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up and his mind helpfully provided images of what surely lay ahead somewhere--a fae beast. 

They prowled alongside the fae, or sometimes in packs with only other beasts, but they never left survivors and were always blood thirsty and merciless. Arical had never seen one before, but he’d heard plenty of stories and even just the sound was enough to make his heart thunder in his chest. 

The creature stopped it’s fearsome yowling, surely hearing Arical’s heart, and Arical thought he was surely dead where he stood. Only--the creature never came--instead it started hissing viciously, and it sounded like it was thrashing around in some underbush. 

Arical--curiosity winning over his fear--took a few cautious steps forward, making sure to keep low and pull his loyal hunting knife from where it was strapped to his belt. As he crept forward he caught a few flashes of the beast--a glimpse of black fur like a lake in the dead of night, a fang the size of Arical’s arm and terrifyingly sharp--but then he realized it wasn’t moving other than to thrash in place. 

Then the creature’s massive muzzle twitched as it scented the air and it’s yellow eyes crashed into Arical’s through the brush. It looked a bit like a panther, though about four times larger and it seemed half tree. It’s ears were pinned back, lips curled over it’s impressive teeth in a blood curdling scowl. 

But Arical--despite his better sense telling him to turn and run as far and fast as he could, and then go farther--was entranced by the creature's eyes. They held an impossible seeming amount of intelligence, and Arical could see the fear hidden behind imposing rage clear as day. 

The beast hissed, thrashing around once more, and it was enough to jolt Arical out of his trance. It was then that he realized the creature was stuck in some kind of snare. It must have been pure iron, because wherever the thick wire touched the fur had been burned away and the skin was red and angry with painful looking blisters. One leg--the front left one--was especially tangled, with the wires wrapped tightly around the whole leg and most likely cutting off any blood flow. 

From the looks of it, the creature had been stuck for a good long while, but Arical had no way of knowing exactly how long. The rain fell from the trees and slipped off the creatures sleek fur just like Arical’s hat, but as he looked closer, it soaked into the coarse tree bark that made up the creatures back left flank--just above the bend of the knee up to a little over the creature’s tail, which flicked in an obvious tell of anger. Little branches stuck out here and there, and there was a pile of dead leaves laying around it. 

Arical slowly straightened, and--making a decision that he would come to briefly regret--took a step forward. The creature yowled menacingly, ears still pinned back, but it held its ground, gnashing teeth. 

Arical held up his hands, one with the knife, and froze. “Let me help--please,” he told it.

The creature didn’t look convinced, but Arical took two more steps forward, now only barely out of reach of the creature's massive claws. It swiped at him--more of a threat than actual attempt though--and he stopped again. 

“You’re only hurting yourself more--I can cut you free,” he tried to reason with it. The beast growled lowly, sinking down to the ground and eying the knife in his hand. “I need it,” he said. The beast hissed and he sighed. “Fine,” he said, tossing it aside and was finally allowed to step within reach of the massive creature. 

It was tensed, ready to tear Arical’s head off at one wrong move, but he worked quickly, muttering a quiet warning anytime he had to press into the sensitive flesh under the wire and only getting hisses and yowls for his trouble. When he finally got the last wire unwrapped, the beast leapt up--tail still twitching, and watched him carefully as it subtly examined it’s wounds. 

It limped, the front foot still too weak to fully walk on, and Arical put his hand out--meaning to examine it himself--but the beast pounced, knocking him to the ground and growling loudly in his face, teeth centimeters from his cheek. 

Thankfully, it didn’t tear him apart, only hissed once more, for good measure, and then sniffed at his face for a moment before bounding off into the woods. 

“Wait--!” Arical yelled after it, but it was already gone. “--your leg…”

It wasn’t until hours later when the sun was starting to set and the rain had finally let up that Arical stopped his trekking and set up a simple camp. He gathered some firewood and lit a fire under cover of thick, dry cedar trees and laid out his bedroll, sitting cross legged on top of it to eat his meager meal of stale bread with cheese and some dried meats. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about the beast, about it’s deep black fur and intelligent eyes. They were almost haunting, and Arical wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep again with the image of them burned into his mind. 

Just then the snap of a branch startled him out of his thoughts, and he scrambled backwards--bumping into a tree--when he spotted the beast sitting just outside his fire’s light. It’s eyes were the most visible thing about it in the dark--they reflected the fire in a way that could only be described as nightmare worthy. It watched him with an almost clinical expression, it’s hissing and teeth gnashing long gone and now replaced with a calm, curious demeanor as it sat on its haunches. Arical’s hand was on his knife, but he didn’t pull it out, just watched the creature as it watched him. 

After a long moment, it lifted itself up with an indescribable grace and fluidly walked up to Arical, who stayed stiller than a stone, only his eyes moving to follow the beast as it laid down in a heap and presented it’s wounded arm with an expectant look. 

Arical remained frozen, confused, until the beast made a low noise that could only be described as a command. He realized then what it wanted. 

“You… want me to patch you up…?” he asked slowly. 

The beast blinked at him, still looking expectant, and then chuffed at him and crawled closer, making Arical gasp and scramble back farther against the tree. The beast made a noise unmistakably close to laughter, and Arical wondered if he was going mad. 

He leaned forward slowly, keeping his eyes on the beast as he grabbed for his pack and pulled his medicine kit out carefully. He could have sworn the beast rolled its eyes at him, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. Thankfully he had some healing salves he’d stocked up in at the last city--this would surely clean him out but what was he supposed to do? Refuse the creature? 

It watched him curiously as he cleaned the wound and then rubbed it with salve before wrapping it gently with bandages. It never moved, not even a twitch despite the fact that Arical knew it must have hurt. He checked it for other injuries, but all the other burns were already nearly completely healed--only bald lines criss-crossing its body while the hair grew back.

Satisfied with Arical’s care, the creature stood up, but only to move as far as Arical’s bedroll, where it casually plopped down on its side, tail flicking comfortably as it rubbed its face on Arical’s blankets and stretched out in front of the fire. 

Arical stared for a moment, and then realized the beast wasn’t planning on leaving, so he sighed heavily and made himself comfortable on the other side of the fire--keeping his coat on and using his pack for a pillow. 

The next morning Arical awoke to a cold firepit and an empty bedroll. For a moment he forgot about the beast, and muttered to himself about falling asleep away from his bedroll, but when he went to pack it up the distinctly warm blankets and obvious deep black cat hair reminded him of the past night’s events.

The beast didn’t return until after Arical had eaten his breakfast. Just as he stood to leave the creature padded silently out from behind him, looking back with an obviously annoyed expression when Arical didn’t immediately start walking. 

Arical--assuming if he was going mad before, he was certainly mad now--just sighed and started walking. 

He was making his way towards a city on the other side of the woods, his pack full of furs and powders and a few gems from the city before that he needed to sell. He was loathe to leave the dry cedar patch for fear of it raining again, but the weather seemed to have cleared up. The beast followed him all day, only bounding off to chase things Arical had no help of noticing every once in a while, but every time it would return to walk with him, still limping slightly but much better than had it been a human wound. 

When Arical stopped to make camp, he unwrapped the bandages and tended to the wound. This time he didn’t put his bedroll out until he was going to sleep, and made sure to climb in quickly. The beast made a disappointed grunting noise, but simply sprawled out beside the fire. 

This became a sort of routine for the next three days as Arical hiked through the woods and tended to the beasts' wound. He discovered a few things about the creature--most namely that it wasn’t really as frightening as he’d originally thought. Yes, it had massive teeth and a body created solely for hunting and killing--but it also acted like a toddler more often than not. 

It pouted when Arical didn’t share his bedroll, and pawed at the ground around him when he didn’t give it enough attention. The leaves growing out of its hind leg seemed to be somehow reflective of its mood, growing plentifully when the beast was content and wilting as it grew more upset. 

It also did not approve of Arical’s dried meats and measly cheese, and when Arical finally grew fed up and snapped at the creature to then find its own food, it responded by disappearing for a long while before dragging a great stag into camp and devouring it messily while Arical watched, frustration and unease mixing uncomfortably in his gut as the beast licked its lips loudly and glared at him. 

Arical assumed the beast belonged to some fae warrior, and it probably planned on returning to it’s master once it had healed entirely, but that theory vanished when the creature was fully healed and still remained. 

Arical started to fret, worried that the beasts master might come looking for it and slit Arical’s throat without time for explanation, and so he tried to shake the beast a few times. He tried waking early to sneak away, but the beast always woke up and stole one of his items to curl around so he couldn’t leave until a more reasonable hour. He tried losing it during one of the beast’s various chases, but no matter how convoluted his path the beast always found him. 

Eventually Arical realized it was hopeless to try and shake the beast, so instead he resolved to stop in a town a few miles before the city he was after. Surely the beast wouldn’t follow him into a place so busy with humans, and then Arical could slip out on the other side and make his way down the main roads to the city. 

He’d much rather risk bandits than angry fae. 

Happy with his new plan Arical quickened his pace and made it to the town just after nightfall. The beast grumbled at him, and paced along the edge of the forest for a moment, but it didn’t follow him, and Arical felt relief sink through him. 

He used some of his coin and a bolt of fabric from his pack to secure himself a bed and warm meals for three nights. He didn’t mind sleeping on the ground, but he had to admit the mattress was a luxury he was looking forward to--as well as warm food. 

The first night was eventless, and the second as well. Arical had nearly put the beast out of his mind and slept peacefully on the third night when he was awoken by great paws crushing his chest and a low growling so deep he felt it in his chest. 

He was awake in the space between seconds and blinking up at the scowling beast, whose nose was centimeters from his. 

“Shit,” he cursed, and the beast hissed at him, as if in agreement. Then it huffed a breath in his face, sniffing him for a moment before it appeared satisfied and jumped off the bed without a sound and started sniffing around. 

Arical sat up quickly, his thoughts finally catching up with him and--despite a giant fae beast breaking into his room and nearly killing him--he found he was more frustrated than anything. 

“Why do you insist on following me??” he snapped, and the beast huffed an annoyed breath at him. Despite it’s annoyed appearance, the leaves on its hindleg were vivid green and healthy looking. “Go back to you master before they kill me in my sleep over a misunderstanding.” 

The beast, to Arical’s completely and utter shock, melted. It’s bones shifted and it’s skin rippled in a way that was somehow both disturbing and graceful all at once until there was a man sitting on the floor with the beasts pelt in his lap. 

The man had the beasts impossibly black hair--though it was long, reaching down to his waist, and he had dark skin that showed the criss-crossing wire scars from the snare. His eyes were the same as the beast’s--vivid yellow and having their full attention focused on Arical made him want to crawl out of his own skin. Or fix his hair. 

He did neither, instead just blinking owlishly at the man on his floor. 

“I have no master, and you needn’t worry about being slaughtered while you sleep,” the man said, with a devilish grin that was all teeth. “Not anymore at least.” He had a sharp face--though, not in the human sense. Arical also had a sharp face, but it was often described as such because of his hollow cheeks and clean jawline. This man’s face was actually relatively round, but the bones beneath stuck out, making every feature graceful and severe. Equally frightening and stunning. 

His words finally caught up with Arical, who’d gotten lost in the man’s strange features, and he frowned. “What does that mean?” he asked. 

The man’s smile widened. “Haven’t you heard any of the stories?” he asked, cocking his head slightly. 

“I’ve heard plenty of stories about your kind,” Arical said sharply. 

The man laughed. “You were so much more friendly when I was a beast.” 

“You had bigger teeth,” Arical said, which just made the man laugh harder. 

“You helped me, I can’t let that go unrepaid,” he said. 

Arical pursed his lips. “I don’t want your debt, consider it repaid,” he said, knowing the dangers of fae deals. 

“Too late,” the man said. “And besides, you don’t even know what my repayment is.” 

“Tell me then.” 

“A peaceful death.” 

Arical gritted his teeth, stopping himself from reaching for his knife. The man just laughed though. “You saved me from a painful death so I will protect you from one--under my watch you’ll die only from old age or a sickness I cannot cure,” the man explained, and Arical’s lips parted in surprise. 

“What?” he said without really meaning to. 

The faerie laughed. “You really didn’t know?” he asked. 

“If I had known I’d be stuck with you I would have left you to die,” Arical said. 

“You’re only solidifying the situation.” 

“What?” 

“If your intentions were selfish,” the faerie started to explain, examining his nails casually and laying back on the floor to look up at the ceiling. “--I wouldn’t be obligated to protect you.” 

“Then I was lying, I only helped you so I could travel through the forest safely without anger from the fae,” Arical said. 

The faerie chuckled. “You’re not very clever are you?” 

“I don’t want this,” he said. 

“Mmmhmm,” the faerie sighed sleepily. 

“I can’t have a fae--” 

“My name is Miteus,” the faerie--Miteus--interrupted. Arical snapped his mouth shut and stared, shocked that the faerie would give away his _name_ so freely. At his silence Miteus lifted his head, smirking. “What?” 

“You--you can’t just--” 

“Can’t just give away my name? Why? What are you going to do with it aside from command my attention, which is already my entire duty.” 

“But--” 

“Names are not as powerful as you humans like to believe, they’re just sounds. The real power lies in what you tie to your names, you make such a big stir about giving them away that it’s fun to watch you squirm.”

“You’re lying,” Arical said.

At this Miteus lurched upright, scowling and viscous even in a “human” form. “ _How dare you_ ,” he growled. “I would _never_ soil my tongue.” 

Arical furrowed his brow, and Miteus slowly relaxed, clearing his throat and cracking his neck before raising a perfectly arched brow at Arical. 

“And you?” he asked. Arical just stared blankly. “How might I command your attention?” 

“...Arical,” he said slowly. It felt wrong to give his name to a fae, but something in Miteus’ reaction made him feel trustworthy. Also, what _could_ he do with a name? 

Miteus grinned, again it was all pearly white teeth. “A name fit for a royal.” 

Arical suddenly felt self conscious--not to mention naked without his hat--and he quickly stood up to wash his face in the basin on the dresser. When he’d done that he turned around again to find Miteus fast asleep and somehow in the bed. Arical grumbled, because _of course_ , but to keep his hands busy he sat on the floor and took some of the old clothes in his pack and altered them a bit so they might have more hope of fitting the faerie. 

The next morning, when the sunlight had just begun softly assaulting the windows, Arical was just finishing his sewing when Miteus silently awoke and left the bed to crouch behind Arical. 

“ _Mending, mending, mending_ ,” he sang suddenly, making Arical jump and scramble away, pricking himself on the needle as he did so. Miteus laughed, “Pleasant day to you,” he greeted. “Going to ask about the song?” 

Arical pursed his lips and shook his head, scowling down at the blood welling up on the pad of his thumb. He stuck the offending finger in his mouth to stop the bleeding, Miteus made an offended noise, quickly scrambling over to yank Arical’s thumb away. 

“What are you--??” 

“I can tell you’re going to make my job spectacularly difficult,” Miteus grumbled as he examined the prick.

“It’s a _needle_ prick,” Arical said, trying and failing to snatch his hand back. “And one that you caused anyways,” he added bitterly. 

Miteus rolled his eyes. Then, without any warning or notice, he licked Arical’s thumb. 

This time Arical really did snatch his hand back, then gawked at the faerie, who scrunched his nose up and smacked his lips in distaste. 

“Why the fuck did you do that??” Arical snapped.

“Humans learned about the healing factors of saliva from my people, but what you didn’t learn was the actual care that _make_ our saliva induce healing.” 

“That’s not--” 

“ _Shhh_ ,” Miteus hissed, scowling, “you’ve soiled your mouths enough with all your lies, I swear it to you that you wouldn’t ever want that energy administered to a wound.” 

They stared each other down for a long moment--Miteus with naked intensity and Arical with blinding exasperation--until finally Arical sighed and relaxed. 

“Just don’t lick me again-- _ever_ ,” he said, with a pointed look. 

Miteus rolled his eyes, muttering something about humans and their delicate sensibilities, but Arical pointedly ignored him, instead searching around for his dropped needle. Miteus found it before him, however, and he hissed--retracting his hand and leaping away from it like it had burned him. And then Arical realized that it _had,_ the needle was made of scrapped iron a poor blacksmith’s daughter had given him for a few pounds of meat to feed her family. 

Without really thinking Arical picked up the tiny piece of iron and threw it out the open window. Then, without a word or sideways glance at Miteus--who was watching him very curiously--he went about gathering the clothes he’d been mending. 

“Here,” he said, tossing them Miteus’ way. “You’ll need these if we’re traveling together.” 

Miteus frowned, and then slowly reached out and touched a shirt gingerly, like he was afraid Arical’s stitching would make it burn him. Arical felt a prick of worry that might actually be the case--but then Miteus shook himself out and grabbed the clothes without any hesitation and held them up. 

After they’d both dressed for the day, and Arical learned Miteus could magically make his eyes look human, they both set off out of the town and down the main road to the city. Part of Arical was hopeful Miteus would be spooked by so much contact with humans--and he was, that much was obvious by the twitch of his nose as he barely hid a sneer at people passing, or the grumbling way he recounted the people they’d passed as though they alone were a list of reasons why the human race was undesirable--but nevertheless he stayed. 

And, again _despite_ \--because everything about Miteus seemed to have some sort of _despite_ phrase tacked onto it--all of his mumbling and scowling, he seemed surprisingly entranced. 

At night, when they made camp and Arical quietly made them a meal, Miteus would question him about humans. He seemed to want to know everything about them--always inane seeming things that only proved to confuse Arical. Questions about ideas, and the way Arical pictured thoughts. Questions about words and if Arical envisioned them differently than images. Questions about why humans insisted on eating old food rather than fresh--and why Arical insisted on cooking his vegetables with his meat. Mostly, they were questions Arical had never taken the time to think of before, and he found himself constantly answering--to Miteus’ annoyance--with _“that’s just how it is.”_

“No, it’s not,” Miteus insisted one night, as they sat by a fire. They’d finished their dinner and Arical had been planning on simply crawling into his bedroll and sleeping the night away but here he sat, next to an inexplicably curious faerie who’s face when lit up by the fire looked uncharacteristically childish. “It’s not _just how it is_ , I wouldn’t be asking if it was,” Miteus said, rather sharply. 

Arical shrugged, poking at the fire with a stick and stirring sparks up from the logs. “I’ve never thought of it before,” he said. 

“Then what _do_ you think about?” Miteus asked. Arical was sitting facing the fire, he leaned leisurely back on his hand, using the other to prod the fire. Miteus sat with his knees up and his arms held tightly around them, like he was cold, and he was facing Arical. 

Arical shrugged again. 

“Well your head can’t be empty.” 

“How would you know?” 

Miteus frowned seriously. “It can’t be,” he insisted.

Again, Arical shrugged. “What are you thinking about then?” 

“How annoying you are, how the sparks look against the night sky, how when I shift my head just a little this way--” Miteus said, cocking his head, “I can see the moon through the trees, and how much I want to do this--” and at that Miteus took Arical’s hand and examined it. 

Arical simply raised a brow, allowing his hand to be turned this way and that. “What are you looking for?” 

Miteus smiled, a tiny, reserved smile, and traced a scar that ran from the knuckle on Arical’s pointer finger around to the center of his palm like a long, thin line. It was lighter than Arical’s tanned skin, and it stood out quite a bit. It was a burn, one from a forge. “This,” the fae said. “How did you get it?” 

“Mistake,” Arical said. 

“Vague,” Miteus said, still intently focused on Arical’s hand.

“But not a lie,” Arical said, before pulling his hand away quickly and slipping into his bedroll to sleep. He’d used the last of his coin to buy Miteus one, and the other man slept with his head next to Arical’s. 

The two traveled uneventfully--at least at first--and Miteus never left. When they were finally within a day’s walk of the city Arical had begun to admit to himself that he didn’t mind Miteus’ company. It was tiring at first, but now Arical saw it in the same way as sinking into a too-hot-bath. Uncomfortable until you adjusted, and then undeniably unleavable. 

It was easy to be around Miteus, easy to watch the fae talk and have answers extracted out of himself. Though, it quickly became clear that Miteus--while having warmed up to Arical--was not as accepting of others. 

At one point during their journey they were joined around their usual nightly fire by another traveler. A woman who’d been robbed along the road and had no food or bedding, and Arical offered his own without thought. Miteus didn’t seem pleased with this, and pointedly sat opposite the fire from the woman, dragging Arical with him and scowling the whole way. 

“Damn bandits,” the woman chuckled softly as she ate some of Arical’s stew with a slice of stale bread. “You’d think the king would put more care into protecting those along his main road eh?” 

Arical just hummed his half-hearted agreement. He didn’t care much for politics, especially not during supper. 

“Seems the mark of a weak king to need so much enforcing,” Miteus snipped, sitting with his back to the woman and the fire as he ate. Arical pursed his lips, tensing for whatever reaction they might get from the woman and expecting fanaticism--but she just laughed. 

“Speak your mind then boy,” she said. It was a phrase meant more as a joke than actual request, but of course Miteus took it literally. 

“When the reward of crime outweighs the consequence you only get criminals.” 

“Then how do you suppose our king should enforce better consequences?” the woman asked, setting her bowl in her lap to focus on the conversation. 

Miteus opened his mouth to respond, and then frowned, closing it slowly. His expression quickly turned to a pout. “I don’t know, I’m not king,” he said eventually. 

The woman chuckled. “Nor am I, though it does seem unbecoming for a man with no answers to call another with no answers weak--unless of course you’re being self deprecating.” 

“Politics, philosophy, what will we debate next? Ethics?” Arical interrupted. He could feel Miteus growing more and more tense next to him, and while he was pretty certain he wouldn’t do anything stupid--he wasn’t willing to risk it. 

“Simply a friendly conversation,” the woman said. 

“Personally, I’m more suited to friendly conversing _after_ supper,” Arical said, a bit pointedly as he watched the woman from under the brim of his large hat. She just smiled and nodded, almost like an apology, and the meal was finished in silence. 

The next morning Arical had awoken to a missing Miteus. He figured the fae must be out prowling as the beast. He’d told Arical it was stifling to not shift into it for long periods of time and so Arical had grown accustomed to his travel partner vanishing at odd hours for brief periods of time. 

The old woman strangely didn’t ask as she helped Arical pack up camp. 

“I think I’ll leave you both here, get an early start,” the woman said with a parting smile. Arical agreed, but gave her some of his food so she’d have something to tide her over to the town Miteus and he had just left. Just as she was leaving, however, she paused, looking over her shoulder with a grim expression. “You be careful now boy,” she said. “There’s a beast been prowling, not to mention bandits, and as much as I ribbed your companion--he’s right about our king. Keep your heads up.” 

“Thank you,” Arical said, pausing in the middle of rolling his and Miteus’ bedrolls. This was the third time he’d heard of the “beast” on the road. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew quite a bit about this beast. 

By the time Miteus slunk back into camp--silently, of course, he was always silent--the woman had been gone a long time. Arical had packed up the camp and was simply sitting alone on the side of the road, waiting, next to a cold fire. 

“You didn’t leave?” Miteus asked. Arical had traveled with him enough now that the fae’s sudden appearance didn’t startle him. 

“I’m not carrying your bedroll,” Arical said, kicking it over before shouldering his pack and starting down the road. 

“You shouldn’t be sitting alone on the side of the road,” Miteus said after he’d caught up. 

Arical just hummed, distracted by his own thoughts. “You know,” he started. “Every time I’ve walked down this road I’ve been robbed.” 

“Nasty road, I can see why you stuck to tromping through the woods before,” Miteus said casually. 

“Would the lack of robbers have anything to do with a certain beast I also keep hearing about?” 

“Certainly,” Miteus said proudly. 

“When you go out, you hunt them?” 

“The best protection is prevention.” 

Arical blinked, unsure exactly how to process that. 

“Don’t worry, I leave most of them alive.” 

A day’s walk and they’d made it to the city--Kavish--the guards at the gate let them both in with narrowed eyes and Arical had to hold Miteus’ arm to keep him from hissing. Otherwise, things seemed to be going relatively eventless, which was a relief. They found Arical’s buyer in the market square, already busy with her selling, and she grinned as she recognized him. 

“Just in time, as usual,” she said, her name was Calia and she had pale skin and bright orange hair that looked like it weighed at least seven pounds. Arical just hummed. “You could wait for me to get off here later, or if you’re in a hurry go find John--he should be at home,” Calia said, before her eyes landed on Miteus, who was examining some of her jewelry idly. Arical could tell from his perked seeming ears that he wasn’t actually looking, just pretending, and he was tensed like he expected Calia to attack. “Who’s the shadow?” Calia asked.

“No one,” Arical said, before dragging the fae off towards Calia’s home. 

She lived near the docks, quite a walk from the market square and Miteus seemed to be surprisingly interested. 

“Never been?” Arical asked. 

“No, what is this city called?”

“Kavish.”

“What does it mean?” 

Arical shrugged. “Probably the name of the guy who settled it.” 

“How arrogant.” 

Arical gave a small smile, hiding it under the brim of his hat as they arrived at Calia’s home. John--her brother--greeted them both kindly, even offering a spare room to them for the night after they’d done business and Arical’s pack was filled with new goods. 

Oddly, Miteus grabbed Arical’s arm to hiss in his ear, wondering if Calia lived here with John. 

“Of course,” John said, since Miteus hadn’t been exactly quiet. “Her room’s the one across from the guest.” 

At this Miteus scrunched up his nose in distaste. “Was my body language not signifying a private conversation?”

John blinked, and then opened his mouth to speak but Arical waved his hand, gripping Miteus’ shoulder so he wouldn’t speak up again. “Thank you John, and tell Calia the same--but we should probably be heading out.”

“I wish you a safe journey then,” John managed, still looking perplexed. Miteus made a _hmph_ noise that was somewhere between annoyed and satisfied, before he marched out the door. 

The next town was two week’s walk, and Arical gave up walking the road to try and lose Miteus, he’d made it clear he wasn’t going to be so easily lost. And--Arical found--that wasn’t something he was sure he wanted anymore.

Miteus, Arical found, liked to talk. He would endlessly chatter in his haughty way without pause for hours as they wandered. Sometimes he would be in moods where he insisted Arical participate in discussions, but other times he would simply tell stories or share thoughts as they rushed through his head. 

Once, when they stopped by a river Miteus dragged Arical with him into the cool waters and they wrestled with one another until Arical realized his hat had been lost to the current. Luckily, it had been caught on some branches not far from them, and he’d been able to fish it out. 

They laid themselves out like linens to dry on the banks. Arical stretched out on his back, eyes closed against the hot sun while Miteus kicked his feet silently in the water, watching the river as it ran past them both. 

“You are very protective of your possessions,” Miteus pointed out after a second. 

Arical just waited, wondering if Miteus was going to goad him into responding. 

“Your hat, your bedroll, and you don’t let anyone else carry your bag or even allow it out of sight for too long,” Miteus continued. “And--there’s also the bit about your name.” 

“I gave you my name,” Arical said, not opening his eyes but furrowing his brow. He heard Miteus lift his feet out of the water, probably so he could hug his knees to his chest. 

“Not all of it,” he insisted. 

“Not the important part?” Arical drawled, suddenly feeling sour. 

“No,” Miteus said. “The important part is the first name--what you respond to-- _Aric-al_ ,” he said Arical’s name with two syllables, almost like he was reluctant to let it leave his tongue. It was odd, Arical had never heard anyone use his name the way Miteus did. He wondered sometimes if Miteus noticed he found himself doing the same with the fae’s. 

“Well,” _Aric-al_ said, “You have the whole thing.” Miteus was silent, obviously waiting for more details, and eventually Arical sighed and pushed himself so he was sitting up. “The other names I had, I never belonged to, I prefer belonging to myself.” 

“And me,” Miteus said, with a small grin. 

Arical rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the ground, putting his hat over his face to keep the sun off it and hide the secretly pleased smile forcing its way onto his face. 

One of the perks of having Miteus with him, was that Arical felt vastly more comfortable going ever deeper into the woods than he would have before. He still didn’t dare go near anywhere he’d heard stories of Hunts, and if he ever began to feel watched he quickly changed his path, but they were making good time, cutting off nearly four days of his usual trekk. 

Though, the deeper they went the quieter Miteus got, often spending days shifted into the beast, keeping his massive head high to scent the air while his pointed ears swiveled around for any sign of danger. 

One day, as they were walking, Miteus suddenly froze. His entire body was tensed and his eyes were fixed in concentration as his nose twitched. Arical froze with him, not daring to speak to ask what was wrong--not that he had time to, since after a second Miteus suddenly vanished--speeding off, chillingly silent, into the forest. 

Arical stayed put, debating if he should be running, or at least climbing into a tree. Instead of either he simply pulled his hunting knife from his belt and forced his ears to listen to the forest around him. It was then he realized the eerie quiet. Instead of the normal twittering of birds or tromping of distant animals--there was nothing. 

Miteus returned a while later, still as the beast but looking unharmed. He wrapped himself around Arical for a moment, searching for injuries before deeming him equally unharmed, and then nudged Arical until he started walking again. 

That night Miteus didn’t shift out of the beast, even as they slept.

“A hunting party,” Miteus said the next day, as they began to take their leave of the woods and he finally shifted back. “I tried to leave more tracks as the _t’chanya_ to keep them from hunting you but they were curious.” 

_T’chanya_ was Miteus’ word for his beast, the fae language--Miteus had explained--was more complex than Arical had imagined. His version of it-- _Niroq_ \--was harsh, with gutterally pronounced vowels like growls compared to the more nasally and light words of _Iilite_ , or the more common language of the faerie. 

“How close were they?” Arical asked casually, pretending the thought of a faerie hunt on his heels didn’t make his every hair stand on end and dance. 

“They followed us for three days, but on the third they came too close--so I warned them off,” Miteus explained. 

“Did you know them?” 

Miteus’ nose scrunched up in distaste. “No, they were _t’chanyien_ , they hunt without my kind.” 

“No wonder they couldn’t sneak up on you,” Arical said. 

“Shh--do not antagonize them while they can hear you,” Miteus said, but he walked on with a prideful bounce to his steps and a small smile on his face.

They left the forest earlier than Arical would have liked, but he didn’t want to risk any more run-ins with fae. Arical wasn’t certain what Miteus had said to the party to get them to leave, but he didn’t want to bet both their lives on his diplomacy skills. 

It was doubly proven horrible when, not a day after they had left the woods, a gilded carriage with soft red velvet curtains clambered to a stop by their camp and a tall man with uncomfortably straight posture climbed out with a letter. 

Arical, despite having watched this happen, elected to completely ignore the man, who stood with his hand out, letter extended to Arical. He simply crossed to the other side of camp to begin setting out his bedroll. 

“Master Elias, this letter is to be read by you immediately,” the man said sharply. Arical didn’t blame him for being terse, but he also refused to acknowledge him. The man wasn’t allowed to continue unless addressed directly, so as long as Arical kept his mouth shut--

“You have the wrong person,” Miteus said sharply, and Arical squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head. 

“Master Elias Arical Trynovsko has been officially summoned to witness his sister, madam Eleanor Evangeline Trynovsko’s first union to her beloved, master--” 

“Stop--” Arical commanded, shoulders tensed as he finally turned to face the man. He snatched the letter away and scowled. “I know what I’m being _summoned_ to, thank you, you can be on your way now.” 

The man’s lips pursed. “I’m afraid I cannot leave until you have read the letter in it’s full and given me a response to deliver to the lady,” he said. 

Arical sighed, dragging a hand down his face. 

“I could bite him,” Miteus offered conversationally, he was suddenly in Arical’s ear. 

“Tempting,” Arical admitted, but he shook his head. 

“No other persons are permitted to look upon the private letter,” the letterman said sharply, and Miteus bared his teeth. 

Arical scanned the thing, already feeling his skin itch at the neat, loopy handwriting of the lady Trynovsko as she listed only the exact facts of the wedding. It was exactly what he’d expected--no well wishes, no friendly jokes, just a date, time, location and request for confirmation on arrival necessities. It was like Arical hadn’t been gone seventeen years.

“There,” he said, tone biting. “I read it, and my answer is: nothing, because I won’t be--” he paused as he lifted the paper to tear it in half and noticed another slip fall out of the lining. He recognized Elle’s writing before he even read it and sagged a bit, already knowing what would be on it. 

It was just three words: _Please? For me?_

“Tell lady Trynovsko I’ll need nothing--I won’t be staying for more than a day, but--” Arical sighed in defeat. “I will be making an appearance.” 

The letterman nodded, and then he and the carriage were gone, and Arical and Miteus were alone again. They lit a fire in silence, and Arical burned the letter from his step-mother, leaving him to stare at Elle’s note for a long while before Miteus finally piped up. 

“ _Elias_ ,” said the fae, like he was trying out the sound of it. “ _Trynorvsko_. _Elias Ar--_ ” 

“Stop,” Arical hissed, crumpling the note in his fist. He didn’t want to hear Miteus speaking those names the way he said _Aric-al_. “ _It’s not my name_ ,” he said. “It hasn’t been for a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” Miteus said softly. 

Arical pushed himself up, throwing Elle’s note into the fire and scowling at the fae. “I don’t want your pity,” he snapped. 

Miteus--with his face lit and shadowed by the fire all at once and his expression too complicated for Arical to read at the moment--simply shrugged. “Then ignore it.” 

Arical slipped into the woods, tripping over logs and stomping through bushes until he felt like he’d put enough distance between himself and the ashes of the letters. He stood very still for a very long time, thoughts and memories circling through his head.

He tried to focus them, tried to make them only about Elle, but he couldn’t catch the end of his tailspinning mind. He lashed out before he really realized what he was doing, spinning to throw a punch at a tree behind him, but instead his fist was _caught_. He thought for a moment Miteus had followed him, and he bared his teeth, but then his blood froze as his eyes landed on the unfamiliar faerie holding his fist. 

Arical yanked his fist back, quickly scrambling backwards and barely keeping upright as his heart pounded in his ears. The faerie’s teeth seemed to gleam in the moonlight as they grinned, and their eyes were like empty pits on their face. They wore tightly fit clothes that seemed to be made of some kind of well tanned leather, and their long, jet-black hair was twisted in a complicated knot at the back of their head.

The faerie took a step towards Arical, and he quickly took two backwards. That made the faerie laugh. “ _Tsk tsk_ , why so distrustful?” they asked him, voice mockingly thoughtful.

“I don’t typically trust strangers,” Arical said tightly. 

“Strange _faerie_ , you mean?” another voice said, this one appearing right in Arical’s ear, and he jumped, rushing to put space between him and the faerie as they both laughed at him. 

“Aw,” yet another voice purred, this one coming directly behind Arical. Before he could spin around though the faerie grabbed his shoulders in a painfully tight grip. “You look tense, something wrong? Maybe we could assist.” 

And then Arical was completely surrounded by at least five faerie hunters. The one holding him finally let go, and he spun around, trying to keep them all within view, but it just made him dizzy with all the teeth. 

“What do you want?” Arical asked, trying desperately to keep calm despite his panic rising up alongside unwanted memories of stories about faerie victims. 

“We’re simply curious--” one of them started. 

“--As to how a simple boy like you--” another added. 

“--Managed to so successfully steal one of ours?” a third finished. 

“I didn’t steal him,” Arical said.

The first faerie’s grin widened. “So we can have him back then?” 

“ _No_ ,” Arical snapped before he even thought about it. The faerie all laughed at him. “He told me he sent you all away,” he said, trying to change the topic. 

“He’s young,” said one of the faerie behind him. 

“And stupid,” another added. 

“Giving away his hand so early, only to let his charge wander alone and delectable looking in the woods the very next day,” said a third. This one coming awfully close. Arical jumped backwards, but he didn’t have much space to run. His heart was in this throat. 

“Funny,” observed a faerie. 

“How come he hasn’t called for help yet?” another asked. 

“Is it arrogance?” 

“Or maybe he’s smarter than he looks.” 

“Aw… so it’s chivalry then?” 

“How _sweet._ ”

“I think I should be--” Arical tried to start, but one of the faerie cut him off, grabbing his arms. 

“-- _Leaving_?” the faerie finished.

“You can leave--” the first faerie started, walking into the circle to stand directly in front of Arical. The faerie was insanely tall, and when Arical didn’t crane his neck to look the creature in the face the one holding him yanked his hair to force him. “--If only you give us an answer to one question--you see we’re curious.” 

Every instinct screamed at Arical to not agree to deals on faerie terms, but he didn’t know what else to do. “Fine,” he said. 

“If you answer in a lie we’ll lift this little youngling of his heavy burden and take you on as _our_ charge,” the faerie standing over him said, grinning. 

“No--I agreed to answer a question, nothing else,” Arical said. 

The faerie grinned. 

“Clever,” the one holding him said.

“Unexpectedly so,” the first faerie murmured. “Very well, no consequences, simply an answer. Though--we will not be pleased by a lie.” 

Arical bit his tongue to keep himself from pointing out the faerie’s contradicting statement. He was already on thin enough ice, he needn’t start stomping. “Ask then,” he said instead. 

“What--” the faerie started, smile dripping with malice. “--Do you give him that makes him stay?” 

Arical blinked, and furrowed his brow. “I--what? I don’t give him anything.” 

The faerie _tsk-_ ed at him. “Wrong.” 

“How would you know?” Arical asked. 

That made all the faerie laugh, but the first one--the one still standing over him--simply grinned. “You are enticingly full of surprises human,” and--if it was possible--the faerie’s grin became violently more predatory. “I think I will do you a kindness.” the creature pulled out a wickedly sharp knife, and though Arical struggled, the faerie holding him was unwavering. “Do try to stay still,” the faerie said, and then they started carving. 

When they left him, he crumpled to the ground, pressing a hand to his face as the blood spilled out and down his neck. He kept his jaw clenched to the point that his teeth creaked in his gums at the aching pain taking over his mangled cheek. He hadn’t uttered a sound the entire time the faerie carved into him--but the knife had been sharp enough that he almost hadn’t even felt it flaying his cheek. 

Now, however, the aching had started, and a groan slipped past his lips before he could stop it. He let himself lay there for only a moment, before he pushed himself up and stumbled back towards where camp was. He could feel himself on the verge of losing consciousness, and he didn’t treasure the idea of being entirely at the mercy of the faerie--though he was certain they were gone now. 

As he grew closer to camp he could see Miteus sitting by the fire. His arms were wrapped tightly around his legs and his jaw was tensed as he stared into the woods where Arical had disappeared before. He was probably forcing himself to give Arical some privacy, which--under any other circumstance--Arical would have been grateful for. 

Miteus’ head snapped over to where Arical was crashing through the underbrush, instantly on guard--at least until he caught sight of Arical, or smelled the blood. 

He was next to Arical in the space between seconds, holding him up and helping him to sit closer to the fire. If Arical hadn’t been so hazy he would have been able to recognize the expression on his face--painful guilt. 

Instead he grabbed Miteus’ collar and forced him to meet Arical’s eyes over the mangled cheek. “ _Don’t go after them,_ ” he ordered, and then slipped completely out of consciousness. 

When he next woke up it was early morning. Everything was dewy and chilled and the fire had gone out. The sky was a dim blue and the sun hadn’t even begun to kiss the horizon. The forest around him was as sleepy as he was, and Miteus was sitting over Arical’s head, staring down at him intensely as he woke. 

Arical’s hand went to his cheek, and he felt some kind of dried poultice caking the entire right half of his face. The wound itched, which Arical thought was a good sign, but wasn’t very comfortable. 

“Have you been there all night?” Arical asked. 

Miteus didn’t say anything, but his jaw flexed. Arical turned his head to the sides, scanning the camp and noticed a ring of beast-sized footprints treading an unending seeming circle around camp. Like Miteus had spent half the night pacing. 

Arical sighed, and tried to push himself up, but Miteus’ hand appeared, forcing him to say flat on his back. He tried to scowl, but it pulled at the cuts on his face and turned into a wince. 

“I need to change the dressing,” Miteus said. 

“Just let me put a bandage on it--there should already be one on.”

“Wounds need to breathe in moonlight and hide from the sun,” Miteus muttered, like he was reciting something as he stood slowly and started gathering needed supplies. Arical thought about standing, but before he made up his mind Miteus was back and washing his cheek with a shockingly gentle touch. 

He figured it wouldn’t hurt to stay put a little while longer--the sun wasn’t even up yet. 

They didn’t say a word to each other for a long while as Miteus cleaned the cuts, and Arical found himself closing his eyes as the faerie worked. He knew Miteus would ask questions eventually, but for now he simply wanted to lay still. When Miteus finished he laid his forehead on Arical’s shoulder, curling himself into a ball. 

“I’m sorry,” he started, sounding muffled by Arical’s shoulder. “I knew better than to let you wander the woods alone but--” 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Arical said. “Besides, you only have to protect me from a painful death, not pain in general.” 

Miteus’ nimble fingers clenched themselves into vicious fists. “Did they tell you what they wrote?” Miteus asked softly. 

“No.” 

“It’s a symbol--it means ‘clever pet’.”

Arical opened his eyes, reaching up a hand and running his fingers gently along the lines of the cuts under his bandage. He couldn’t make sense of them, and he was sure even if he could see it he wouldn’t know anymore. 

“It’s a claim, you can’t be harmed by faeries without enacting this hunt’s retaliation.”

Arical took a deep breath, letting his hand drop back to his side. If he poked his tongue to his cheek he could feel just how thin it was in spots, but the faerie were skilled--they hadn’t fully punctured anywhere. 

“They tried to trick me into replacing you with them--” Arical started softly. “Why?” 

Miteus gave a very labored seeming shrug, and Arical cocked his head. 

“Did you just lie?” 

The fae’s silence was damning, but then he jerked upright suddenly, staring into Arical’s eyes upside down but so close his forehead almost brushed Arical’s nose. “ _Tried_ \--you said they _tried_.”

“I’m a clever pet,” Arical said simply. 

Miteus’ relief threatened to drown Arical, and he blinked, trying to catch his bearings at the overwhelming emotion that flooded through Miteus. The fae pressed his head to Arical’s shoulder again, fist clenched in his shirt and took a shuddering breath.

“ _I waited all night for them to come take you away_ ,” Miteus said.

“Why? You lied before--you know, so why?” Arical asked. 

Miteus’ grip grew tighter. “Why _wouldn’t_ they?” he said, sounding miserable. 

“What does that mean?” 

“You’re clever, and pretty, and kind, and perfect.”

Arical went beet red and suddenly wished for his hat so he could hide beneath the brim. Logically, he knew Miteus wasn’t lying, but it didn’t make the urge to accuse him of it any less demanding. 

He tried to push himself up again and--despite every bit of reason in his head--muttered some excuse about needing to get firewood in the woods. Miteus--understandably--didn’t let him, going so far as to shift into the beast and tackle him to the ground, laying like a massive paperweight over the top of him and keeping him pinned down. 

“For someone so clever you can certainly be unbearably idiotic,” Miteus said, having shifted back so he was simpy sitting on Arical’s chest with his legs crossed looking comfortable as ever. 

“Alright--ok--enough--” Arical said, fed up and his face burning, as he lifted Miteus off him and dumped the fae where he’d been laying so he could retrieve his canteen and take a long, deep swig of water. Then he grabbed his hat, feeling eons more comfortable with it on, before finally turning back to the fae, who had a quizzical expression on his face. 

“How did you do that?” Miteus asked. 

“What?” Arical asked. 

“How did you lift me off you? I weigh the same as the _t’chanya_ and you were laying down.”

Arical shrugged, the burning in his face intensifying. “My pack’s heavy.”

Miteus grinned suddenly. “Why is your face so red? Do you not like being told nice things about yourself?” 

Arical grunted, quickly turning away and pretended to dig through his pack.

“Did you know that when you get frustrated you turn into a _be’shen_?” Miteus asked, the tone of his voice lilting with mirth.

“I don’t even know what that is,” Arical grumbled. 

“It means literally ‘ _digging hog_ ’,” Miteus said, and Arical froze. 

“Are you calling me a _truffle pig_?” Arical asked shrilly, and Miteus cackled.

The two broke camp quickly after, and Arical pointedly gave Miteus the silent treatment until they reached the city, where--despite Miteus’ argument--Arical insisted on getting a room with an inn. Arical sold the rest of his goods, packing all his coin into a leather pouch he kept safe in the bottom of his now nearly emptied pack. He stocked back up on food and bought Miteus a few more shirts and tried to talk him into wearing shoes but was horrifically unsuccessful. 

Arical’s wounds had mostly healed after the third day, but he opted to keep the bandage on while in the city. Though, at night he removed them and got his first good look at the damage in the mirror at their inn. 

The cuts were clean, unflinching, and unmistakably faerie. The symbol looked a bit like a simplified fox missing an ear. Miteus explained--softly, ever so softly--that the hunters, the _t’chanyien_ , had a simple written language of symbols, and that they had no spoken words, instead using a complicated mix of facial expressions, animal sounds and hand signals to speak with one another. The fox signified cleverness, and the missing ear meant it was tamed--hence “clever pet.”

It wasn’t something easily hidden, but Arical was certain most humans would see it as a mark of hatred, rather than protection, and for once he was grateful for blatant ignorance. 

The wedding summons unfortunately meant he would have to change his usual route. Now that he had sold his wares he had to go back to the farms to buy more and repeat his cycle. Typically, he went to the same houses everytime, but Reusmellow--where his sister, step-mother and father resided--was roughly four weeks in the opposite direction, and the wedding was taking place in three. 

Arical was familiar with his family's unquenchable thirst for opulence, which meant the wedding most likely started in three weeks and ended in four--with Elle finally married. That was the only part Arical was going to be able to stomach, so he didn’t bother rushing down the path. 

As Arical and Miteus traveled, the days seemed to melt beneath their feet. Before Arical had met Miteus, he’d appreciated the world, but hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed. There was so much detail that Miteus seemed tuned into. Sometimes that just meant he would notice a strange looking bird and make Arical stop to listen to it calling, other times it meant walking a little farther to camp on top of a hill to watch the sun set the sky on fire in the distance. Once it meant silently tracking a squirrel through the woods to watch it feed it’s impossibly tiny babies. 

Arical found himself aching to show Miteus something in return, but he couldn’t think of anything. The only things Miteus seemed ignorant too were human things, and they all felt lacking and bland now that he’d seen some of the tiny wonders Miteus never seemed to run out of. It wasn’t until Miteus and Arical had a mock argument over how many shades of blue existed that he realized exactly what he wanted to show Miteus. 

“Do I have to guess our destination?” Miteus asked with a grin after Arical had vered them off the main road and into the woods. 

Arical didn’t say anything, but he felt a tinge of worry pulse through his chest at the idea that Miteus already knew where they were going. 

Miteus craned his neck to look up at the thick canopy of trees above them. “I’ve never been to this side of the forest, I hope wherever the destination--it’s somewhere we can see the stars,” he said, shooting Arical a significant look. 

Arical just hid his pleased smile under the brim of his hat and led them on. 

They reached the lake just as it started to get dark, which only made it harder for Arical to keep his grin hidden. The trees stopped close to the water’s edge, leaving nothing but open sky over them as they set out their camp. 

“Did you know this was here?” Miteus asked, eyes wide as he took in the lake, and Arical’s chest felt oddly warm. 

“It gets better, but we have to wait for dark,” he said. 

Miteus turned to him and narrowed his eyes, but when he saw Arical’s poorly hidden smile his eyes went wild. 

The lake itself was a wonder to behold, completely surrounded by tall trees it looked magical--even in the daylight. The water was smoother than glass, and it reflected the blue sky above them so perfectly it gave Arical vertigo. There were lily pads around the sides and the lilies were just opening as they settled in. A few toads croaked at one another from opposite banks, and Arical wished more than anything for the moon to rise quickly. 

The two of them ate a cold dinner by the water, Miteus insisting Arical let his near completely healed cheek breathe and Arical insisting they wait to light a fire. Then--finally--when complete darkness had overtaken the little lake, making it as inky as Miteus’ _t’chanya_ , Arical stood. 

He held out a hand to Miteus, who had been staring out at the lake with his arms wrapped around his knees. 

“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten,” Miteus teased, grinning as he took Arical’s hand and let himself be pulled up. 

“It has to be dark--completely dark,” Arical said, and then he set his hat down and pulled off his shirt. 

Miteus blinked, freezing as he stared at the shirt and hat on the ground. Arical paused where he’d been undoing his pants, brow furrowing. “You do know how to swim, right?” he said. 

Miteus coughed, and then cleared his throat. “Yes--I mean, yes, of course--obviously, that’s--” he coughed again and shook out his head, grateful it was too dark to see his burning ears and cheeks. “Yes, I can swim,” he said finally. 

Arical gave him a quizzical look, but Miteus was quick to strip down with him. He went to the water’s edge but before he could take a step Arical grabbed his arm. 

“Wait--” he said, and then hesitated, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Close your eyes.” 

Miteus laughed. “Are you going to drown me?” he joked. 

“No--no just--please?” Arical said. 

The faerie only laughed as he closed his eyes and held out an arm to let Arical guide him into the water. The two only paused once to gasp a quick breath at the cold, but Arical waited until they were both up to their chests in the water before he let go, his grin already threatening to overtake his face again when he saw the water begin to light at their movement. 

“Don’t move,” he said, waiting for the tiny lights to fade out. 

“Your version of swimming is intriguing,” Miteus said with his bubbly laugh. 

“You’re moving,” Arical said, but he was nearly laughing himself. 

“Apologies.” 

“Ok--” Arical said. “When I say, we’re going to dive underwater and you can open your eyes.” 

“I am at the mercy of your queue.” 

“ _Now_.” 

And with that the two dove under the water and Miteus opened his eyes to something entirely unexpected-- _light._

The water exploded into beautiful cerulean blooms. Everytime he moved more layers of bubbles lit up with luminescence and Miteus broke the surface to gasp and stared in wonder at the sudden glow of the water. It looked impossible, and ethereal, and Arical couldn’t stop staring at the look of utter awe on Miteus’ face illuminated by the water as his dark hair swirled around him like spilled ink. 

“A blessing--” Miteus whispered, entranced. “This place is a blessing, how did you find it?” 

Arical shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek to tame his grin. The water rolled off his shoulders at the movement, blossoming with light and Miteus’ eyes seemed stuck on it for a moment. The two were treading water a bit farther out from the shore, and Arical could see the light they were kicking up from the even strokes of their legs. 

Before Miteus could try to pry anymore answers out of him though, Arical held up a finger. “Watch,” he said, unable to hold back his smile, and then he dived down--not noticing the unmistakable pinkness of Miteus’ ears. 

The water and the lights rushed past him in a way that felt unreal, but he moved past it all until he reached the lake’s bed. He kicked up the muck at the bottom, dimming the luminescence a bit, but then a fish darted out, quickly followed by four more, all shooting through the water and leaving little blue trails behind them like rockets. 

When Arical surfaced again Miteus looked utterly star-struck, eyes following the little trails as the fish darted into new hiding spots, stirring up more fish until the lake was filled with criss-crossing lines of blue lights. 

After a moment Miteus tore his eyes from the fish to look at Arical, who didn’t bother trying to hide his grin anymore. They both probably looked wild, with dripping hair and bare shoulders as they floated in a glowing lake. Soon they would tire, and crawl back to the shore to sleep until the sun rose and they would have to make their way back to the path--but, watching Miteus be overtaken with awe, Arical realized that sounded like the most devastating tragedy he could possibly imagine. So instead of thinking about it too much, he splashed a wave of glowing water into Miteus’ face. 

The faerie was surprised, but quickly recovered, cackling loudly and quickly returning the attack. The two splashed and shoved and laughed and kicked at one another until nearly the entire lake had been stirred up to a vibrant blue. 

After, they both floated on their backs, staring up at the stars. Miteus had begun humming at some point, a soft, nonsensical tune that Arical didn’t recognize. The forest around them was dark and quiet, and the sky above them clear and bright with swirls of stars and a massive moon hanging over them. They’d floated for long enough that the light of the water had begun to calm, leaving only a soothing blue hue surrounding the two as they moved the water with their breaths.

Somewhere far off, an owl hooted, and Miteus mimicked the call with surprising accuracy. Arical found himself smiling, still drunk off Miteus’ blinding awe. “Friend of yours?” he teased.

“Potentially,” Miteus said, with his own toothy grin. 

The two eventually had to drag themselves out of the water, where they quickly started a warm fire to dry their pruned skin. Arical felt a sleepy, hazy kind of peace, and judging by Miteus’ expression he was feeling the same as his eyes lingered lazily on Arical’s face. 

“How’s it healing?” Arical asked, assuming Miteus was looking at the cuts. 

“What?” Miteus asked sleepily. 

“The cuts, how are they healing?” 

“Right--” the faerie leaned forward, coming a breath away from Arical’s cheek and gently probing the scar. He smiled after a moment, not dropping his hand as he said--“Very well, it’s even scaring nicely.”

“Mmm, because that’s what I was worried about,” Arical hummed dryly. 

Miteus smirked. “Don’t worry--” he said, and then he traced his finger impossibly lightly over the bridge of Arical’s nose, across his eyebrow and down around his eye back to his nose following the top of his cheekbone. “--They didn’t touch this bit,” Miteus said, his eyes on the path of his finger rather than Arical’s eyes. 

Arical suddenly wanted his hat, but before he could say anything Miteus sleepily dropped his head to rest his forehead on Arical’s shoulder, muttering something Arical couldn’t hear. 

After a moment Arical realized Miteus had fallen asleep, and for a second he chuckled to himself. He stood carefully--so as not to wake the faerie--and carried him over to his bedroll so he wouldn’t freeze during the night. For a second he was caught up in staring at Miteus’ sleeping face, and, without really meaning to, found himself tracing the same path around Miteus’ eye the faerie had done for him. 

He caught himself though, and quickly shook himself out, crawling into his own bedroll to chase sleep and dreams of hazy blue clouds, toothy smiles, and fish-trails of blue scars criss-crossing Miteus’ limbs.

Miteus slept in late the next day, only rousing to the smell of Arical cooking something warm to make up for their cold dinner. They sat together watching the lake as they ate, but in the daylight it looked almost impossible for the events of last night to have been anything more than a wild dream.

“How did you find this place?” Miteus asked. 

Arical shrugged, but Miteus stared at the side of his head until he sighed. “I stumbled on it while traveling.”

“It’s on the way to your home, were you arriving or leaving?”

“I don’t have a home Miteus.” 

“Was it your father?” Miteus asked suddenly, and Arical turned his head to look at him, furrowing his brows. Miteus’ eyes looked molten. 

“What?” Arical asked. 

“Is your father the reason you don’t have a home?” 

Arical stared at him for a long moment, and then he took a long breath. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Explain.” 

Arical clenched his jaw. 

“Or tell me the story behind this--” Miteus touched his finger to the scar on Arical’s hand. He instinctively pulled away, but relaxed after a moment and sighed when Miteus’ intense look didn’t falter. 

“It’s--” Arical let out a frustrated breath as he started patting the ground around him for his hat. 

“ _Be’shen_ ,” Miteus said with a fond smile, handing the hat over, and Arical glared as he put it on. 

“It wasn’t just _him_ ,” Arical said finally. “I’m--” another breath, and finally the story spilled out. “When my father first took his title as duke he asked a fortune teller to warn him about a problem he would have as duke. The woman, or man--or, I can’t remember--told him that he was cursed with the urge to kill his first born, and if he succumbed to it he would be cursed. 

“A few years later my father had an affair with my mother, and when he found out she was pregnant he realized this was what the fortune teller had warned him of, so he nursed my mother through the birth, assured I was born safely, and then he executed her.

“Elle came later--the duchess’ daughter--we met even later and became friends before we even knew we were related because my father had Anders raise me, a blacksmith. Eventually Elle and I found out. She tried to convince them to recognize me as an heir but--” Arical paused, pursing his lips and clenching his fist. “I left.”

There was silence, and then Miteus hugged his knees closer to his chest and swallowed heavily. “I left too,” he said quietly. “My _chanya_ \--my brothers and sisters, we hunted together because we’d been left behind but…” he trailed off, staring at the ground. “We came across a group of humans, I don’t know what they were doing, but they traveled deep in the woods and we hunted them and they wanted me to kill her but I--” 

“Miteus,” Arical said, gently interrupting Miteus’ rising distress. 

The faerie took a breath. “I left,” he said, and then he traced a finger over the scars criss-crossing his arms. “I spent years alone, and then I got caught in a snare.”

“Well,” Arical said softly. “I spent years alone too, and then I found a beast in a snare.” 

As the days went on the two found themselves sharing details with one another. Small things, like a joke one of Miteus’ sisters used to tell, or a kind of sweet only sold in Arical’s old town. It was cathartic, if a bit strange for both of them, who had spent so long trying to forget everything about their pasts. 

The time passed so quickly that they’d reached the outskirts of Reusmellow before Arical even realized it, and he almost didn’t have time to think about the ache in his chest at the sight of the town. 

“Inn,” Miteus demanded as soon as they came into the town, and Arical frowned at him. 

“In?” 

“No--an _inn_ , we need an _inn_ ,” the faerie corrected, which only proved to confuse Arical farther. 

“Why? We’re not staying for more than a day,” he said. 

Miteus didn’t listen, and Arical just sighed and gave in to the faerie’s insistence. They found an inn as they went a bit deeper into the town, and the woman at the bar gave them a wide smile as Miteus demanded a room. 

“Here for the wedding?” she asked, leading them upstairs. 

Arical hummed in answer, and the woman beamed as Miteus shoved past her to search through the room. “It’s so wonderful--we needed this bit of bright huh?” 

Before Arical could answer Miteus grabbed his arm and yanked him into the room, slamming the door and shoving Arical into a chair next to the bed. Arical raised a brow at the faerie’s sudden franticness, but Miteus simply dropped his neatly folded _t’chanya_ pelt in Arical’s lap. 

“Don’t move,” he commanded, and Arical opened his mouth to speak but Miteus held up a finger. “Don’t leave, don’t move, I’ll be back,” he said as he turned to leave.

Arical frowned. “Miteus--” 

“I’ll be back!” Miteus said, closing the door behind him and leaving Arical perplexed. After a moment though he stood, dropping the pelt on the bed before thinking better of it and carrying it with him as he rushed to the door. 

Miteus was thankfully still in the hallway, and he glared behind him when he heard the door open. 

“You can’t just--” Arical tried to protest, but Miteus was suddenly in front of him, shoving him backwards into the room again. 

“ _Don’t move_ ,” Miteus hissed, and then the door closed again, jamming a chair from in the hall under the handle before he left. 

This time Arical huffed an annoyed breath and tried the handle, finding it was blocked and cursing. “Asshole,” he muttered, going to dig through his pack to find his rope to climb out the window, except--it was gone. “ _Asshole_ ,” he growled again, this time with feeling. 

He glanced out the window, gauging the distance and trying to think if he could free-drop out. He ended up scraping that plan, since there was a chance he’d twist an ankle and he’d rather have full function of both his feet while reuniting with Elle--who had the tendency to leap onto people. Plus, he already had an inexplainably pissy faerie on his hands, he could only imagine how much worse it would be if Arical managed to break a leg.

Eventually, he opted to just sit and sulk until Miteus came back--luckily it wasn’t much later. The faerie stumbled in with a stupidly large smile and an even bigger bag that he dumped on the bed to reveal as being filled with the exact sweets Arical had mentioned missing _once_. 

“Did you buy the entire stall?” Arical asked. 

“Yes,” Miteus said, looking unreasonably proud of himself. 

“And _why_ couldn’t I have come with you?” Arical asked as he picked up one of the candies. 

Miteus frowned, like the answer was obvious. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if you came,” he said. 

Arical froze where he was unwrapping the candy, and then blinked at Miteus. After a moment, he shook his head and laughed, and it quickly turned into a full bodied laugh that seemed to surprise Miteus almost as much as it surprised Arical himself. 

When Arical managed to catch his breath he shook his head again, popping the candy in his mouth. “You are remarkable,” he said, with an unbearably fond light in his eyes. 

Miteus’ smile froze and his ears turned bright red. Arical didn’t notice, too caught up in chuckling to himself as he walked across the room. 

“Also--” Arical said with a lopsided grin as he reached the door. “--Never lock me in a room again,” he said, quickly slamming the door shut and jamming the chair underneath it. 

“Wait--!” Miteus called, muffled by the door. Arical laughed to himself again, and then noticed the innkeeper from earlier standing at the end of the hall with a bright smile as she brought towels to another room. She waved at him, and he went to wave back when suddenly there was a deafening roar and Arical went pale as a sheet, fumbling to move the chair and get back in the room to find Miteus as the _t’chanya_ pacing and clawing massive scratches into the wood on the floor. 

“Asshole,” Arical breathed.

They left the inn quickly after that, making their way through the town and up towards the duke’s manor, which was thankfully a ways out of the town. They shared Miteus’ massive bag of sweets, and Miteus refused to tell Arical where he’d found the money for all of them. They were still bickering about it as they reached the manor, and before Arical could even pause to wonder at the massive and unwelcomely familiar building, the doors flung open and Elle herself came bursting out of the manor, leaping off the four steps to the porch and into Arical’s arms. 

Without missing a beat Arical caught her, spinning her around and grinning before he could think, and she shrieked and hugged him so tightly he almost worried about his neck cracking. 

“I knew you’d come!” she said, beaming as Arical set her down again. 

“I know what a rare thing it is for you to say please,” he teased, and she threw her head back to laugh, slapping him playfully on the shoulder. 

“Oh Ari,” she said once she’d calmed down, her eyes softening as she looked him up and down, eyes lingering a bit on his cheek. “You look great,” she said, riddled with sincerity. 

She reached up to touch the bandage, but Arical took her hand in both of his and gently pulled it away, smiling. “You too,” he said. 

And she did, Elle looked every bit the stunning bride she was going to be. Her red hair was curled and twisted into an elegant knot at the nape of her neck, with some pieces artfully left out to frame her face. She was wearing a blue silk dress that looked rich and expensive, especially on her freckle-dotted cream skin. 

“Oh!” She said suddenly, her eyes drifting to Miteus, who’d subtly shifted closer to Arical, now standing nearly with his chin resting on Arical’s shoulder. “Arical where are your manners? Introduce me to your…?” she trailed off, looking expectantly between the two. 

Arical and Miteus shared a look, both their minds racing to come up with an excuse before looking back to Elle and speaking at the same time--“ _friend_.”

Arical cleared his throat and Elle gave them an odd look. “This is my friend, Miteus, Miteus this is my sister, Elle,” Arical introduced. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Elle said enthusiastically, and she held out her hand, limp at the wrist--expecting Miteus to kiss the back of it. 

The faerie furrowed his brow at it, before grabbing her fingers and shaking them awkwardly, and giving her a polite nod. 

Elle--of course--didn’t look the least bit offended. Instead she beamed. “Oh we’re going to get along _splendidly_ ,” she said, entirely genuine. 

Miteus glowed, and Arical felt something pull in the pit of his stomach at it, but before he could think about it too much there was a sharp voice from the doorway. 

“Elias…” said lady Trynovsko, who stood above them with her hands folded and her back straight as she stared at them down the line of her nose. “So happy you decided to grace us with your presence,” she said. The duchess’ lips thinned to a harsh line, and there was a nearly imperceptible wrinkle next to her nose, but she held her composure. She looked remarkably like Elle, with thinning red hair, pale skin and deep brown eyes opposed to Elle and Arical’s greens. Elle had taken all the height and freckles from their father, however, so the queen stood almost a head shorter than Arical. That fact didn’t stop her from posturing like she towered over him though. 

“It’s a pleasure to be appreciated my lady,” Arical said curtly, with a tight smile. 

“Step-mother?” Miteus whispered, so close he breathed on Arical’s ear. 

Arical hummed an affirmative, and then grabbed Miteus’ shirt to stop him from doing anything stupid, like shifting and tearing apart the Reusmellow royals--no matter how satisfying that image was. 

Instead he turned his tight smile on Miteus for a moment, catching his eyes and giving him a look that meant _let me handle this_. Miteus didn’t seem pleased but he grunted and Arical took it to mean compliance. 

“I see you neglected to make us aware of your guest,” the lady said pointedly. 

“Didn’t see the point in it,” Arical said tightly. “I won’t be gracing you with my presence for more than today.” 

“Ari you don’t mean that do you?” Elle said, and guilt flickered through Arical. 

“I have business,” he said. 

“Far away,” Miteus added helpfully.

“But the wedding isn’t until tomorrow!” Elle said, and Arical sighed, knowing what was coming before she even grabbed his hands to say--“Please Ari? Just stay one night? Henri and I wanted an early wedding, you can leave right after.” 

“Well… I suppose if there’s room--” 

“Of course there is!” Elle said, her mopey act completely gone now as she whirled around on her mother, whose lips had pursed even more. “ _Right_ mother?” she said, a bit of an edge to her voice. 

The lady gave a tight smile. “Of course,” she said slowly. “I’ll have someone escort the two of you.” 

“I’ll do it,” Elle interrupted, hooking her arms through Arical and Miteus’ and dragging them away before anyone could argue. 

Miteus scowled at lady Trynovsko as they passed, and Arical reached around Elle to smack him on the back of the head before he hissed. It earned him the full force of the scowl, but he just rolled his eyes. 

“So, Miteus, how did you two meet?” Elle asked, giving Arical a severe look that meant _we’re talking about that later_ , and Arical wondered if she meant his tensions with the lady, or his casual slapping of Miteus. 

“Woods,” Miteus said vaguely. 

“The woods?” Elle said slowly, turning a concerned gaze onto Arical. “You’ve been in the woods?” 

“I travel through them, it’s faster,” Arical said, wincing internally when her eyes widened. “I’m careful Elle,” he said before she could say anything. 

That just made Elle stop, and she dropped both the men’s arms to cross hers over her chest. “Then remove your bandage,” she deadpanned.

This time Arical’s wince was external.

“So I’m right?” Elle said. Her eyes softened and she sighed, heavily. Arical was grateful when she didn’t press anymore. “This one can be yours, I’m across the hall, I assume your probably tired--I’ll let you rest until dinner, which we’re having at six sharp--if you’re not there I’ll drag you,” she said curtly, with her chin raised a bit, and Arical couldn’t help a soft chuckled. 

“Yes ma’am,” he teased, and she rolled her eyes. 

“It’s good to have you back Ari,” she said, and then she turned to rush off down the hall, leaving Arical and Miteus to explore their new room. There were two beds, as well as a fresh water basin between them and a few clean towels. Everything was made of polished mahogany and deep purple, with thick quilts piled on top of both beds that looked so comfortable Arical almost stopped regretting his decision to stay a night. 

Miteus scanned the room clinically, and then slowly--in a way that can only be described as suspiciously--poked the bed. His frown only deepened the more his hand sank through the bedding and into the plush mattress. It made Arical breath a soft laugh as he dropped his pack and peeled his shirt off for a quick rinse and change. He left his hat hanging on one of the bedposts. 

“Think it’s going to swallow you?” Arical teased. 

“How do you avoid asphyxiation?” Miteus asked, eyes not leaving the bed. 

Arical laughed again. “You’ll live.” 

“Yes, because I will sleep on the floor,” Miteus said as Arical splashed water in his face and combed his finger through his hair. 

“No can do, you’ll shift and when the maids come in to change the water we’ll both be hung.” 

Miteus’ face screwed up with offence. “I will not,” he snapped childishly. 

“Every time you sleep on the floor you shift,” Arical said, scrubbing his hair dry with a towel in front of the mirror over the basin. It had grown out a bit with all the traveling, and now it was long enough to curl at the ends, twisting around his ears and temples. The rinse helped his hat-head a bit, but now his brown hair looked wild and twisted. Miteus didn’t say anything, but he mourned when Arical pulled a comb from the table the water was on. 

“ _Hmph_ ,” the faerie grunted, turning his back and crossing his arms to pout. 

“You don’t have to stay here,” Arical said, trying and failing to tame his hair. 

At that the faerie actually growled and Arical rolled his eyes. 

They spent the next few hours bickering as Miteus paced and Arical changed into something a bit more dinner appropriate. There were clothes in the closet, and Arical even recognized them as being his old ones, but he couldn’t bring himself to wear more than a clean, holeless grey tunic from one of the suits. 

He goaded Miteus into washing as well, and tried getting him to wear one of the provided tunics, but since they were sized to Arical the shoulders were all too big, slipping down Miteus’ shoulders in a way that was entirely indecent for dinner.

Eventually Miteus shook Arical’s fussing off and simply magic-ed his old shirt into a nice looking--fitting--olive tunic. Apparently he could use the same magic that changed the appearance of his eyes to make his clothes look different, and part of Arical was enchanted by that, but the other part of him was frozen as he stared at Miteus, who was putting his hair up. 

His nimble hands worked quickly, gathering the dark locks and sweeping them upward into a complicated but graceful looking knot. He did it efficiently, and it left the back of his neck exposed and Arical had the remarkable instinct to reach out and touch it. Instead he cleared his throat and quickly searched around for his hat, sticking it on his head with a bit too much force and swallowing heavily enough that Miteus looked up at him with a curious expression. 

“Do you have a tie?” he asked, still holding up his hair as he turned his head from side to side to examine the hairstyle in the mirror. 

Arical blinked. “What?” he asked. 

Miteus laughed. “A tie, you know, that keeps your hair up?” 

“Right--” Arical said, and quickly busied himself with digging through the basin table to find a small leather tie. 

“Thank you _be’shen_ ,” Miteus said as he took it, and let all his hair drop down in a careless way that made Arical’s face feel hot. He turned away, busying himself by digging through his pack for his water skin and entirely missed Miteus’ pleased grin and pink ears.

Sooner than either of them liked, it was nearly six and they had to start making their way to the dining hall. The room was massive, with the highest ceiling in the manor and massive candelabras hanging from the ceiling lighting the entire room brilliantly. The tables were all laden with food, and people were filing in, taking their seats and laughing with one another over wine as they waited to begin feasting. 

Elle, the duke and duchess, and Elle’s fiance were nowhere to be seen, but the long table at the end of the hall was clearly where they were expected. Arical went to find him and Miteus seats among the crowd, but a maid appeared. 

“Master Elias and his guest are to sit with the lady, if you’ll please follow me,” she said politely. Arical sighed, but tugged Miteus into following him up to the long table. Thankfully he and Miteus were placed at the end, most likely opposite the duke and duchess. 

As soon as they’d settled there were gaudy announcements for the royals, and the duke and duchess entered first, arm in arm, and sat at the far end of the table from Arical--which he was grateful for. Arical’s father looked older, but otherwise completely unchanged. The curling chestnut hair was greying around his temples and his great beard was also flecked with silver. His olive eyes--same as Elle and Arical’s--were sharp as ever and his face was set in a determined half-scowl. He only skated his gaze over Arical, but he couldn’t find it in him to be offended. Elle and Henri came next, also arm in arm and beaming as they waved to the cheering crowd. Elle sat next to Arical, with Henri on her other side, and she clasped her brother’s hand and grinned. 

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He just smiled. “You look happy,” he said, and she only glowed more.

After a few toasts to the happy couple and a few more to the duke and duchess, the meal commenced and everyone dug in, turning the celebration into a din of content conversing that became a buzz in the background. 

“Henri, you remember by bother, Arical?” Elle said, leaning back a bit so Arical and Henri could nod at one another. The other man was handsome, he had blond hair slicked back severely and an enthusiastically manicured moustache. Despite that, his face seemed warm and he smiled with complete sincerity at Arical. 

“Of course! How have you been my friend?” 

“Well, you?” Arical said politely. Henri was the son of the duke’s head guardsman, he Elle and Arical had grown up together, but he and Elle had always been closer. 

“Splendid! Didn’t you know I’m about to be married?” he joked, and Elle laughed as Arical smiled. 

“Congratulations, both of you.” 

“Would it be rude to ask about the scar?” Henri said bluntly, Elle elbowed him sharply under the table. 

“Not at all,” Arical said. He’d had to take the bandage off, knowing there would only be more questions with it on--besides, he reather liked the idea of watching the duke and duchess squirm at the sight of it.

“Where did you get it Ari?” Elle asked softly. 

“The woods,” Arical said. 

“I could translate it for you,” Henri offered. “My Runic’s a bit rusty--better with the worded languages--but I could give it a shot.” Runic was the human word for the _t’chanyien_ language. It felt almost jarring to hear it. 

“Thank you, I already know what it means,” Arical said. 

“ _Runic_?” Miteus whispered in Arical’s ear, pronouncing the last “c” sharply. The way he said it was so filled with distaste that Arical couldn’t hide his smile. 

“Oh where are my manners,” Elle said. “Henri this is Miteus, he’s Arical’s friend--Miteus this is my fiance, Henri DuCalc.” 

Miteus examined Henri with an unimpressed look, and this time Arical hid his smile behind a wine goblet as Henri squirmed. 

“Pleased to make your introduction,” Henri said, and then--“did you know your name is faerie?” 

“Really?” Miteus said, dripping with sarcasm and leaning forward in mock interest, making Arical choke on his wine. 

Elle gave him an odd look, but Henri was beaming at the opportunity to talk about faerie. 

“Indeed!” He said. “It means--well it’s actually a bit complicated, see it means elegance, or poise, but when used as a name it means closer to _‘elegant one’_ in the beastic language, at least.”

Miteus raised his brows. “Remarkable,” he said. 

“It is! The faerie languages are actually _very_ interesting, there’s so many of them it’s actually quite remarkable, and most of them share very few words depending on the relationship of the speakers--for example, in both the common faerie language and the beastic language adding the suffix ‘ _be_ ’ to something makes it a sort of endearment in both languages because the beasts and the fae coexist, but with races that don’t--” 

“Wait,” Arical interrupted, brow furrowing. “What makes _‘be’_ an endearment?” he asked.

“Well, you put it in front of a noun and it becomes possessive-- _be’coroq_ for example would be ‘my dove’.”

“Hm,” Arical said, his face feeling warm. He resisted the urge to look behind him at Miteus, who’d leaned back to hide behind Arical so his red ears wouldn’t be noticed.

The dinner passed excrusiatingly slow after that, with Arical catching up with his sister and Miteus eating rolls like he was going to die. When they were finally all excused Arical and Miteus bid the couple good night and hurried as quickly as the could while still being polite up to the room. 

Arical let out a long breath as soon as he closed the door, unbuttoning his tunic so it stopped strangling him and going to the basin to rinse his face with the cold water. As he did so he noticed Miteus sitting crosslegged on the floor with at least a dozen rolls in his lap.

“Did you like the rolls?” Arical asked. 

Miteus beamed. “Butter,” he corrected, and Arical chuckled. 

He finished washing his face and collapsed onto the bed. He sank at least a foot into the plush bedding and he sighed contentedly. Just as he was begining to drift off to sleep he heard Miteus finish his rolls (or stash the rest somewhere for later) and stand, but he didn’t move, and eventually Arical opened one eye to find him staring down at the other bed suspiciously. 

“It won’t eat you,” Arical said. 

Miteus turned his head, frowning. “I will surely drown in all this fabric,” he said dramatially. “And you’ll be drowning yourself so no one will help either of us.”

It made Arical roll his eyes fondly, and then he rolled over to make room and guestured to the other half of the bed. “Then sleep here and I’ll shove you out if you start to drown,” he said. 

In a second Miteus was curled up under all the blankets next to Arical, and the man got the distinct impression this whole thing was some sort of plot. He shook his head with a smile and propped himself up on an elbow to look down at the faerie, who looked entirely too pleased with himself. 

“Your hair’s still up,” Arical said, without really meaning to. 

“ _Mmhmm_ ,” Miteus hummed, eyes closing sleepily. There was a lose strand of hair that had escaped his bun, and it lay across his face so that his nose twitched minutely. 

“Miteus,” Arical said. 

“Hm?” 

Arical reached over and took the strand between his fingers ever so gently. “How do you say ‘frustration’ in _niroq_?”

“ _Leti_ ,” Miteus said, his eyes still closed but a smile on his face. 

Arical tucked the strand of hair behind Miteus’ ear and then, right when Miteus melted into sleep, he whispered--“ _Be’leti_.”

He rolled over to sleep after only a second more, drifting off easily, but behind him Miteus’ eyes opened, his face and ears all tinted red as he stared at Arical’s sleeping form deep into the night. 

Neither of them drowned in the bedding, but Arical woke up before the sun as he always did and Miteus slept in. The only difference was this time, when Arical tried to pull himself from the bed, Miteus just held tighter to his waist. 

They did eventually have to rise to get ready for the wedding ceremony--which was splendid. Elle was gorgeous in her dress and her and Henri looked like two of the happiest people in the world. Arical and Miteus only stayed to celebrate until a little after mid-day, but then the two of them bid everyone farewell, and the couple happy decades, and left down the path. 

It is said they still wander somewhere out there-- and perhaps still will in the stars even long after there’s no dirt left to walk. They share a bedroll now, for Miteus has developed a severe phobia of drowning, and sometimes, if you’re extremely quiet, you can find them in the dead of night, swimming in a lake of lights, chasing fish and laughing. 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god you read the whole thing???????? Do you like,,,, want my first born,,,,,???
> 
> XDD I'm kidding but seriously--thank you so much!!! If you want to drop a comment and tell me what your favorite part was, I'm a raging narcissist and need to be fed <3


End file.
